


Road Trip!

by shrill_fangirl_screaming



Series: all the stony au oneshots [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: AU, High School AU, M/M, road trip au, slightly cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:25:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2143848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shrill_fangirl_screaming/pseuds/shrill_fangirl_screaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six friends fresh out of highschool go on a road trip. Arguments with Siri and gas station bathrooms ensue.</p><p>(does not need to be read in conjunction with the rest of the series)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Trip!

**Author's Note:**

> My dad and I are road-tripping right now for college tours, and this story basically popped into my head fully-formed. It's pretty cracky but I hope you enjoy!

“Shotgun!” Tony shouted, running towards the car.

His five best friends follow at a more stately pace. “Still can’t drive, Stark?” Natasha shouts at his back.

Tony whirls around, only slowing a bit. “Still can't form complete sentences, Romanoff?” Tony retorts. “Besides, at least I haven’t crashed a car yet.”

“Yes, because being rear-ended by a jackass at a red light was my fault,” Natasha deadpans.

If it were anyone else, Tony would have continued to snark and sass until he won the argument, but Natasha was scary and it was quite possible that her snark was even more powerful than Stark snark so he settled for flipping her the bird and settling himself in the shotgun seat.

Tony and his five best friends- Bruce, Nat, Clint, Thor, and Steve- had graduated from high school the week previous. They had been inseparable since the seventh grade, which was really a sign of a strong friendship because everyone is an idiot in the seventh grade, but they managed to overlook it for the sake of each other. And it was awesome. They were going to scatter to the far corners of the country in the fall, going to six different colleges, so they had talked their parents into one final road trip over the summer to say goodbye.

It was a wonderful, horrible idea.

“So, where are we going again?” Clint asked for the umpteenth time from the far back of Steve’s CRV, Natasha’s feet on his head.

Tony whipped around to glare at him. “Nowhere. That’s the point.”

“I thought the point of a road trip was to see the sights,” Natasha quipped.

“I thought the point of putting you in the backseat was so you and Clint would make out and stop flapping your jaws,” Tony retorted.

Clint smirked. “Haven’t ruled it out.”

Natasha kicked him firmly in the cheek.

“Please, guys,” Bruce said for the umpteenth time from the middle of Steve’s CRV. “Please, stop with the bickering and the fighting. Please.”

Thor snored loudly, twitching gently in the seat next to Bruce.

“It’s been an hour, Bruce,” Natasha drawled.

Tony sighed. “A long hour. Are we there yet?”

“You’re the damn navigator,” Clint replied.

“That was never agreed upon,” Tony protested.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You’re in the passenger seat, you’re the navigator. That’s just a fact, Tony.”

“Don’t panic,” Steve said evenly, drawing everyone’s attention, “But I’m pretty sure we’re lost.”

Tony turned around and the three people still awake in the backseat sit bolt upright. “Lost?” Tony asked in a panic, “How can we be lost, we’ve only been driving for an hour and we left from freaking Brooklyn, how can we be-“

Sure enough, the road in front of them was dirt and trickling into nothing.

“How the fuck?” Clint said.

“Tony’s fault,” Natasha claimed immediately, slouching once more to let her head hang off the seat and rest her feet on Clint’s head.

“Make him fix it,” Clint replied calmly, cuddling up to Natasha, his partner/girlfriend/friend-with-benefits person thing.

Bruce rolled his eyes and put in his earbuds.

Steve was turning the car around. “Tony, where’s the next on-ramp to an interstate?”

“The fuck should I know?” Tony replied. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Steve pointed to the map on Tony’s lap. “That thing. It should tell you where the roads are. You can read a map, can’t you, Tony?”

He didn’t say yes.

“You can’t even read a map, Tony?” Steve said accusingly. “Whatever. It’s come to this. Ask Siri.”

Murder lit in Tony’s eyes. “No,” he whispered fiercely, one hand pressed to his chest. “Anything but her. She’s not even a real AI and she’s dumb as fuck, Steve.”

“Ask Siri or read the map,” Steve said.

There was a pause.

“I’ll ask the demonic hellbeast,” Tony said, resigned. Steve would probably do it himself, but he still didn’t have a smartphone. Sucker. “Get us to a fucking highway, Siri.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand get us to a Hemingway Sears. Shall I search the web?”

“No, bint, get us to the damn highway.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand get us Tudor Dam Highway. Shall I search the web?”

“How the fuck would that help anything?”

“There’s no need to use that kind of language.”

Tony just barely managed to not throw the phone out the window. “Steeeeeeve,” he whined, “Siri hates me.”

Steve’s mouth pressed into a thin line, which meant he was really pissed. Tony was too. Siri was stupid. And not AI. When Tony got around to building an AI, it was going to be way better than any bullshit Steve Jobs could make, rest in peace or whatever. “Tony, press the button again to make Siri show up.”

“Fine,” Tony mumbled. “See if I care, talking to the enemy.”

“What is the nearest interstate?” Steve asked.

“The nearest interstate to your location is I-95 North.”

“Directions to I-95 North.”

“Calculating,” Siri said pleasantly, and sure enough, a map appeared on Tony’s screen directing them to the interstate.

“If you turn her off, I’ll throw you out of the car,” Steve said pleasantly.

Tony sulked.

 

An hour later, the back of the SUV was full of sleeping teenagers. Clint and Natasha were curled into an impossible-seeming cuddle position in the far back, Thor was still snoring against the window, and Bruce was curled in the fetal position, eyes clenched tight.

Due primarily to Tony’s meddling, they still hadn’t managed to get on the highway.

“In point two miles, make a sharp right turn onto North Main Street,” Siri said pleasantly from her perch in Steve’s breast pocket.

Tony, hunched defensively over the map, said, “No, a left!”

Steve turned right. “For the last time, Tony, Siri knows better than you.”

“In one mile, take a slight right turn onto I-95 South.”

Tony turned the map upside down, looking at it in deep contemplation. “Wait, what road are we on?”

“North Main Street,” Steve said, “Like Siri literally just said.”

“We can’t trust her,” Tony said derisively, “She’s the enemy.”

Steve nodded. “Sure, but she’s going to actually get us to the highway. So we can begin our adventure. Like we planned. Right, guys?”

“Everyone else is asleep,” Tony said distractedly. “It is down to you, and it is down to me.”

“Princess Bride references aside,” Steve said, “Look at what I’m doing now. Following a sign for I-95. Onto an on-ramp. And…” he said, accelerating, “Would you look at that. Where are we. The interstate.”

“You have arrived,” Siri said, just to be an ass.

Tony plucked the phone from Steve’s breast pocket. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, “Shut up.” An idea occurred to him. “Hey, Steve? Does Siri have to be a girl? Because right now she’s reminding me of Natasha and it’s making me want to punch her in the face.”

“First off,” Steve said with a long-suffering sigh, “Siri isn’t a boy or a girl, it’s a piece of software. Two, don’t punch Natasha because she’ll kill you. Cheerfully. Three, Siri doesn’t have a face. It’s a piece of software.”

“You know what I mean,” Tony replied.

Sadly, he did. The tension left Steve’s shoulders and he said, “I think it has gender options somewhere in settings.”

Tony flipped through the phone and said, “Awesome, now she’s a dude. Hey, and I can make him British! This is great!”

“Oh, Tony-“

The phone beeped twice and Tony said, “Hey, Siri, talk to me.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Steve,” it said. Sure enough, it was the voice of a British man.

Tony grinned wickedly at Steve. “Success.”

“Don’t mess with that, Tony,” Steve said, but without either real malice or real conviction.

“Hey, Siri,” Tony said, “Can you call me sir?”

“I am now going to call you sir. Okay?”

Tony grinned. “Thanks.” Another idea occurred to him, and he grinned. “Can I call you Jarvis?”

“Sorry, my name is Siri,” it replied.

“Why Jarvis?” Steve asked.

Tony locked the phone. “I don’t know, isn’t that a good name for a mechanized British man? Something about it, I don’t know, just screams mechanical Brits.”

Steve took his eyes off the road to glare in confused exasperation at Tony. “I swear, half the time I don’t know where your brain goes.”

“Car!” Tony shouted, looking at the road

Steve swerved just in time to not hit the rear bumper of a silver Honda Accord. The driver flipped Steve off as he whizzed by in the lane to the left. Steve, the consummate Good Samaritan, held up a hand in apology.

“Don’t apologize,” Tony reprimanded, “They can smell weakness.”

“Kindness,” Steve corrected.

“Also,” Tony said, looking around, “You can go faster than fifty-five.”

Steve shook his head. “That’s the speed limit.”

“So? Everyone goes faster than the speed limit, it’s a freaking interstate. Look, grannies are passing us-“ Tony pointed and sure enough, a little old lady in a red Lexus whizzed by their left, gesticulating angrily at their CRV. “It’s normal.”

“It’s illegal.”

“It’s safer.”

That got Steve to reluctantly press down on the accelerator. The needle of the speedometer crept towards the sixty mark. “Steve,” Tony said.

“Yeah?”

“Dare you to floor it.”

Steve gaped, appalled. “No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Yes you are. You’re going to get into the left lane and you’re going to floor it and you’re going to go eighty miles per hour and it’s going to be epic.”

“No.”

“Yes. Otherwise, you’re a weenie.”

“No I’m not, Tony, and name-calling isn’t going to-“

“I’ll tell Bucky you’re a weenie.”

“He’s called me a weenie twice a week since the second grade-“

“Me and Bucky will go have epic adventures without you when we go to college and we’ll block you out of our friendship because you’re going to stupid California-“

“Fine, I’ll do it.” Tony grinned. Steve shook his head resignedly and began slowly creeping over to the leftmost lane. “Why do I let you talk me into this?”

Tony patted him on the shoulder affectionately. “Because my will is iron. Now floor it!”

Looking extremely uncomfortable, Steve pressed the accelerator to the ground. The CRV shot forward, the needle on the speedometer creeping to 60, 70, 75… “C’mon, kid, you can do it,” Tony muttered… 80.

81.

82.

Tony looked up to Steve’s face to see him smiling like a lunatic. “This is great!” he said excitedly. “We’re going so fast! Who knew breaking the rules could be so much fun?”

“Literally everyone else on the planet,” Tony said.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Shut up, I’m having- shit another car.” He tapped the brakes, bringing the car down to a still-respectable 70. Tony looked, and sure enough, another car had appeared on the horizon in the adjacent lane, which was the apparent cause of Steve’s mini-panic.

“You’re such a weenie,” Tony said affectionately.

He had been banned from saying “wuss” or any other slur in any way derived from any female genitalia on pain of castration from Natasha. “Weenie” had been their compromise.

“Pass me my Coke?” Steve asked as their car creeped towards the other one on the horizon.

Tony nodded. He’d been doing this for the entirety of their trip. Just as he was handing it to Steve, however, the car in front of them decided to change lanes without using a turn signal or checking his blind spot and Steve was forced to slam on his brakes and swerve as to avoid hitting the bastard.

“Sweet mother of pearl-“

“Fuckdammit-“

“My shirt!” Steve glanced down at his previously blue, currently Coke-soaked t-shirt.

Tony aggressively flipped off the other driver. “Who the fuck just changes lanes like that? Son of a bitch.” Suddenly businesslike, he turned to Steve. “Wait. Did you just say sweet mother of pearl?”

“It was the heat of the moment,” Steve said uncomfortably.

Tony sighed and facepalmed. “Steven. Steven Grant Rogers. I have spent the past five years carefully cultivating your now-unparalleled ability to cuss like a soldier. And in a moment where a nice ‘fuckdammit’ or ‘shitfuck’ would have done, you went with ‘mother of pearl’. You traitor.”

Steve was crimson. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think-“

“It’s fine,” Tony said with a long-suffering air. “I’ll survive. Let’s just get you cleaned up.”

“Gas station at the next exit,” Steve sighed. “I hate those bathrooms.”

Tony shuddered visibly.

 

“Do you really think it’s okay to leave them all asleep in the car like that?” Steve asked, peering in on his sleeping friends in his CRV. “Aren’t you not supposed to do that, because of the heat?”

Tony tugged on him. “They’ll be fine, it’s cool. Go get cleaned up, I’m gonna buy coffee.”

Steve indulged his mother-hen instincts for another moment before following Tony into the gas station. A bored-looking teenage girl flipped through a magazine behind the counter, but other than that, it was deserted. He made a beeline for the restroom, plucking uncomfortably at his shirt.

Tony fussed around with the coffee machine, fixing himself a nice dark brew. It would probably be disgusting, but hey. Caffeine was caffeine.

“Hey, Tony?” Steve shouted from the bathroom.

Coffee abandoned, Tony ran over there. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, sounding anything but. “I just, uh, don’t have a clean shirt. Can you go grab me one? My duffel is in the trunk, you won’t even have to wake the others.”

“Sure,” Tony said, nodding even though Steve couldn’t see him. “Of course.”

He bolted out the door, earning a dirty glare and a “Pay for coffee next time, asswipe,” from the teenager behind the counter. He hauled the trunk open, grabbed one of Steve’s shirts, and tore back into the gas station. Teenage Girl rolled her eyes.

“I’m back,” Tony said. “Open the door?”

Really, nothing would have actually prepared him for the sight of a shirtless Steven Grant Rogers in a gas station bathroom. It really shouldn’t have been hot. It really was.

While Tony was ogling Steve’s bare chest, the guy asked, “Um, where’s my shirt?”

Tony didn’t really hear.

“Tony? Shirt?”

Tony shook his head. “Let me just admire the view for a second. Giving you a shirt would be like putting a canvas over those paintings Pepper keeps going on about.”

Steve self-consciously crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Please?”

“Sorry,” Tony said, holding it out, “You’re just kind of gorgeous. And you know us bisexuals- there are no friends, there is only prey.”

“I am a pansexual,” Steve said haughtily, “And I have plenty of friends.”

“No prey?” Tony asked before he could stop himself. “We’re not good enough?”

He didn’t say it, but they both heard it- I’m not good enough. It was a phrase he’d said for a solid six months after Pepper finally broke up with him at the end of sophomore year.

Steve’s eyes darkened for just a moment and that was enough. Suddenly Tony was in the bathroom with him, the door was shut, and Steve’s mouth was on his.

Big hands were lifting him up and onto the sink and ordinarily Tony didn’t like being manhandled but this gave him the height advantage over Steve for the first time since his freshman-year growth spurt. Steve’s hands were still fisted in Tony’s hair, mouth hot and insistent on his. Tony, however, took advantage of this wonderful turn of events to run his hands all over the wonderful chest and torso he’d seen exposed just moments earlier.

Tony would have been happy to bang Steve right there in the gas station bathroom, or at the very least make out with him for a solid hour, but there came  banging on the door.

“Look, guys, you can’t fuck in the bathroom, but if I’m gonna let you, you have to let me watch.”

It was the teenage girl cashier.

Tony and Steve pulled apart, flushing red and giggling with embarrassment. Tony was the one to reply to her. “We’re not fucking, keep your pants on.”

They heard the click of her heels as she walked away.

“That was humiliating,” Steve said, burying his face into Tony’s neck, dropping his hands to the smaller guy’s waist.

Tony smiled. “It wasn’t so bad.”

“At least I’m not wet and sticky anymore,” Steve said.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. He wouldn’t. He was going to. “I can make you wet and sticky for other reasons,” Tony said, waggling his eyebrows.

Steve looked up at him, a picture of puppy-dog confusion.

“Sperm, Steven. Sperm.”

The blush on his cheeks spread down his neck and chest. Tony forcibly hauled his mind out of the gutter, with great effort. “Let’s go.”

The cashier girl smirked at them with a downright filthy expression as they walked out, twiddling her fingers. Steve flushed again and looked at the ground, but Tony smirked right back and ran his hand suggestively down Steve’s arm.

When they got outside, though, there was a little bit of mayhem. Apparently, their friends woke up.

Bruce- dear, sweet Brucie bear- was filling up Steve’s car with gas. Clint and Natasha were on top of said car doing handstands while having an intense staring contest. Thor was flirting with a pretty little brunette who had driven up while Tony and Steve were gone.

“What the hell is going on here?” Tony bellowed. “I leave you fuckers alone for three minutes-“

“Staring contest-“

“This is Jane! She-“

“tank was almost empty-“

“and I’m winning.”

Tony smiled. “Great. That didn’t make any sense at all. Thanks. One at a time?”

“I’m filling up the car,” Bruce said helpfully.

Steve nodded at him. “We gathered.”

Clint was the next to speak. “Natasha challenged me to a staring contest, and clearly she’s never going to win, so-“

“I am so-“

“Are not-“

“Am too!”

Steve clapped. “Shh! Why are you doing this while doing headstands?”

“Increases difficulty,” Natasha said.

Tony asked, “And on top of the car?”

“The ground is dirty,” Clint said as if offended.

Steve and Tony would have pursued this line of questioning, but the pretty brunette Thor was talking to walked right up to them and stuck out a hand. “Hi. I’m Jane Foster.”

The eternal gentleman, Steve took it. “Hi, Jane. I’m Steve.”

“Welcome to the madhouse,” Tony said dryly.

Thor grinned. “We awoke in the car when Natasha elbowed Clint in the stomach and he bellowed. Jane was driving up and we struck up a conversation.”

“My friend Darcy works in there,” Jane explained. “I was going to keep her company, but Thor here distracted me.”

The way they looked at each other made Steve smile.

“Ha!” Clint shouted from atop the car. “I win! Suck it, Natasha!” He smoothly backflipped off the car and said, “I am the master commander!”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she swung backwards, feet landing on the top of the car just behind her hands. She relaxed in the bridge position for a while before swinging her torso up to a standing position. “You are?” she asked archly. “Everything looks so small from up here.” She wiggled her pinky finger at Clint.

“Really?” he asked. “The weakest size joke in the book, Nat? Really?”

She shrugged. “I said nothing.”

“We were gone five minutes,” Steve said weakly. “Five minutes.”

“Oh yeah,” Natasha said interestedly. “Where were you? We have a running bet, you see, because if-“

Tony shook his head. “Steve spilled Coke on his shirt, had to go change it.”

The annoying teenage girl cashier stuck her head out the door. “Lies. They banged in the bathroom. You heard it here first.”

“Darcy!” Jane protested.

“We didn’t _bang_ ,” Tony said with exaggerated patience, “We _kissed_. Big difference. Big.” He waggled his eyebrows at Steve.

He had his face buried in his hands, crimson blush spreading low again. “This is the worst day of my life.”

“Bullshit,” Tony said lightly, looking out at the cheerful chaos of his friends- now Clint and Natasha were doing back handsprings while reciting Russian poetry, and Thor was tucking hair behind Jane’s ear while she blushed, and Darcy was watching he and Steve with the most _indecent_ look on her face. “This is awesome.”


End file.
